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I’m here, just three weeks into surviving two Category 5 hurricanes in two weeks. Yep, Hurricanes Irma and Maria hit my part of the world, and it was bad.

I don’t even know what to say except, I’m grateful we had no damage, I’m grateful for my boo who has been busting ass getting us needed supplies, and I’m grateful for my own patience for waiting out our cell towers being marginally restored (thank you, diesel generators) while we wait patiently for our electricity to get turned back on (months in the making, no doubt).

The entire part of the world where I live has been decimated, but that’s not to say that every home is ruined, and every person is beaten down. We are here, surviving, and even thriving–I’ve rediscovered life without Facebook, in-real-life life, staring up at the stars at night from the hammock and truly, yes, truly being able to notice them without the mental and emotional distractions that come with electricity (tv shows, social media posts). I’ve started reading books again. And, I’ve finally started on some long overdue writing projects.

Not once have I thought about drinking; it’s just not what I do anymore. Sure, I’ve felt down and helpless (and even angry at myself for being in a daze and kind of not feeling as “intrepid” a disaster survivor as I guess I had imagined myself to be), but that has never translated into, wine will help or make it feel better. Yes, there are people getting high and drunk around me, and I have to admit, it sort of aggravates me; but I let it go so quickly that I don’t even have time–or want to invest time–to figure out why. It’s not important, and emotions are strong these days. Anyway, as I re-read some of my old blog posts, I realize just how grateful I should be that I don’t think about drinking in my darkest (literally) hour. I did SO much of that during my first year–but, that was 5 years ago, a long time ago. I’ve moved on, but maybe it’s going to take a hurricane (or two) to help me embody that reality by actually, forcing me to physically move (on)!

With military planes, three weeks later, still buzzing back and forth over the water outside, and relief helicopters transporting people to and fro; living out of coolers and dealing with an inordinate amount of mosquitoes; working from my deck off a hotspot connection in the gusting winds–a week after Maria, and the winds, man, the freaking winds!–it’s all taking time, focus, patience, diligence, and perseverance. I have those, though, and I’m grateful for that, too.

I promise to write more when things start to settle down… Huge hugs to all just starting to get sober. Keep NOT drinking when you really, really want to drink, and that’s half the battle.